Cold-Hearted
by Tempest Bound
Summary: Sociopath, n.; a person with a psychopathic personality whose behavior is antisocial, often criminal, and who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience.


**Tempest Bound: So this is the updated version. I'm not sure if this should be turned into a full-blown story or not.**

* * *

I stand, ramrod straight, exactly on the spot designated for a competitor. I can hear the nurse behind me shift, perhaps bored, perhaps combing her hair and standing straighter and smiling wider, because I am in the room and three women nearly tripped when they saw me on the way here.

I turn slightly and pull my quirky smirk, because they always fall for that. She smiles back, shyly and I nearly open my mouth to talk, to win a few extra likable points with a single question of 'how was your day?' but then the door opens and the nurse seems almost crushed. I breathe in and face my opponent.

A girl. Perhaps seventeen or eighteen, easily shorter than me. Her nails are cut close to the cuticle and wouldn't do much if someone stronger than her decided to hurt her.

The nurse clears her throat, which sounds parched. "Now—"

I smile lazily. "Perhaps you'd like to drink something before you continue?"

The nurse blinks, once, twice. "Oh." Pause, breath. "Oh, yes, I would."

She uncaps a bottle she had propped against the wall when the matches started, thirty-seven minutes ago. The water must be lukewarm. Her face twists slightly as she takes four small sips, sips that are careful not to smudge the lipstick she wears.

"Now," she says, smiling again at me and tucking her hair behind her left ear, "Competitor Ice, are you ready?

"I am," I say.

"Competitor Era, are you ready?"

The girl tilts her head back to look me in the eye, smiling slightly. "Yes."

"Then let the fight begin!" The nurse throws her arms out, trying for grand but looking awkward, and her eyes dart to me for approval.

I roll my eyes and smirk back, laughing quietly, and she grins wider. _Good._ I turn to look at the other girl, who stands solidly, feet shoulder width apart, shoulders squared and back straight.

I flick Floe's Ball into the air; after she explodes from it, it magnetically returns to my palm. The Froslass sings her ghoulish melody and wraps her arms around herself.

Her lead is a Dragonite, massive like every Dragonite, seven foot three. Its weight is supported by bones that are hollow and easy to snap in two.

Ice and dragons, an easy, mess-free solution. "Ice Beam," I say, not bothering to look away as a dazzling shot of ice gathers in Floe's mouth and fires directly at the Dragonite's heart, as I've taught her. A single hit, and it's over.

Except it's not.

The girl reacts before the bolt of frost slams home, calling, "Flamethrower!"

The Dragonite shouldn't be this quick, side stepping the ice and only receiving a glancing frost-burn. Its wing ices over and it won't be able to fly. Flames pour from its jaws and in an instant engulf Floe's body.

I don't bother checking on her; I summon her back to her Ball and send out Rip; it's dragon on dragon now. "Dragon Claw!"

The Garchomp roars and swipes at the Dragonite's chest, but it keeps backing up; eventually, however, it's forced to stop or else flatten its Trainer, and Rip's claw sinks into its breast. It screams and Rip shoves it aside with a twist of his shoulder.

I know this is the girl's strongest, the titan that just has fallen, but when I look up, expecting that familiar, beautiful glimmer of shock, she is calm and says, "Al, Hail, please."

The Dragonite wheezes a song, painfully shaking crystals free of its wing. A small flurry begins near the ceiling, swirling the pebble-sized hailstones through the air that sting my cheek. I push back my hair.

The Dragonite's out; the girl returns it to its Ball and sends out a Glaceon, which bursts from its Ball in a shower of frost.

I breathe in and say, "Flamethrower!"

Rip opens his jaws and flames billow out, steaming in the suddenly frigid air. Beneath the roar of the fire and whistling winds, I hear "Double Team!"

Copies of the Glaceon materialize. "Blizzard!" the girl calls, and the swirling winds flare into blinding white snowfall.

The snow falls thickly and bites my skin; I can barely see a foot in front of me. The white dissipates and reveals Rip's prone form at the arena's center.

I return Rip and send out my last. Brier lands and readies his stance without a thought, arm blades extended, as they always are. He sinks into the snow but calmly clears it in a second with a psychic bubble.

"Close Combat," I say, forcing my breaths to remain calm, even, controlled. "And _hit the right one_."

The Gallade gives me an exasperated look, but turns to the veritable infestation of Glaceons. Brier's eyes glow and then he speeds towards a Glaceon sitting on the right side of the room. There's a flurry of movements, ice shattering, and the clones vanish into smoke as the real one slams into the wall behind it.

The girl returns the Glaceon and sends out her last, a Luxray. It bursts from its Ball already sparking, and without hesitating, launches itself towards Brier, mouth open and growl deepening in its chest.

"Pulse, no," the girl says, and the authority in her voice nearly surprises me. "Calm."

Her Luxray swings into a halt, chest grumbling with a growl, and electricity continues to pour off its body. I can feel my hairs standing on end with the static in the air.

The girl's hair is fine and so floats around her head. She takes out an elastic and pulls her hair back into a bun, and it crackles as she smoothes it back. While still tying her hair, around the elastic she holds in her mouth, she says, "Crunch."

The Luxray's sudden leap towards Brier upsets its growl and creates a crack of noise; Brier brings his arm up to resist the blow, and the Luxray's jaws clamp down around his forearm.

"Psycho Cut!"

Brier's eyes glow and he twists his arm. The edge of his blade catches the mouth of the Luxray and throws it to the ground. I smile, because it is over. I straighten, adjust my scarf, and reach for Brier's Ball to return him.

The black and blue mass that is the Luxray rolls over.

It isn't over.

With a sigh, I say, "Finish it off with another Psycho Cut. Let's end this." I check the clock, see that it is five minutes past my predicted time limit. "I need to g—"

A sudden rush of air stirs the snow and sends it flying. By the time I am able to see what has happened, Brier is lying limp upon the ground, head lolling, shoulder still gripped between the jaws of her Luxray. It has a paw pressed down on his neck, claws sparking with electricity and sunk into his skin. I return him to his Ball.

The Luxray's paw drops to the ground and its jaws snap shut. It shakes its head as if its teeth's clacking together bothers it.

I am seething and thrumming with anger I will keep pent up and coiled. It is better reserved for any opportunities that present themselves.

Instead of pulling out a weapon—_it would all be so easy easy easy—I carry a pocket knife for a reason_—I dig my nails into my palms and smile when I'm supposed to.

I am a wonderful, charming young man who has just lost gracefully to a young woman who I will not harm while others are around. I am calm, gentlemanly and polite, I tell myself and my nails dig deep enough to spill blood on my palms.

The girl is smiling as she jogs up to me, offering a hand to shake. "Good match," she says. Up close, I can see the scars on her knuckles and the thin line that mars the arch of her eyebrow. She is much too slight to not worry about men in alleyways.

I smile calmly back and take her hand in mine, after putting a glove on to hide the blood. "Same to you. Congratulations." I think of twisting my fingers to snap her wrist—it is thin and it would be so so easy—before letting her go and I know I have not missed a single, minuscule beat.

She smiles and I know I have won.

"Thank you," she says. She turns to the nurse, who is watching with narrowing eyes, and pulls the PokéBalls from her satchel. "That's seven wins, right?"

The nurse takes the Balls and places them in the healing wells, more out of force of habit—she is slightly far-eyed—than kindness. "I believe so. I'll send for someone to lead you back to the front desk to claim your BP." As the nurse hands the three Balls back to the girl, she smiles at me. "Do you wish to take the challenge again? I'd be more than happy to be your guide again."

I laugh to unfasten the tightness in her shoulders. "No, I think I'll quit for today, but thank you for your offer, Miss...?"

"Kay," she says instantly, then catches herself. "Kathryn, actually but..." She laughs, blushes, looks to the door and then me. "My friends call me Kay, so...yeah." She laughs again, and to me it sounds stressed and scratchy.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Kay." I smile and bow from the waist, sending her into another fit of nervous laughter. "But I believe I'll be leaving."

The girl is watching the conversation with something close to amusement. As I pass, I nod to her and say, "Miss Era," and continue through the sliding doors. They don't close behind me.

"You had her wrapped around your little finger," she says, her heavy boots loud in the empty hallway.

I do not want to talk to her or to anyone, but this is expected and I am polite, if nothing else. "I have no idea what you mean, Miss."

"You very well know I mean," she says. "And why have I heard your name before?"

"Pardon?" I ask though I dread the answer, because an insignificant twelve year old defeating an organization is hardly something people forget easily.

"Ice...Ice...hmm." Her fingers beat a grating rhythm on her bag. "Why does Sinis Trio come to mind?"

No. _No no no no no._ "I wouldn't have a clue."

"Wait, I've got it!" She claps her hands together. "The Altru Inc. incident, right? In Almi—"

I cut her off with my hand over her mouth. Her eyes are wide. I catch her and drag her into the room I passed earlier and that is empty. She kicks and twists, reaching for my arms and scratching at my wrists. I am wearing long-sleeves and leather gloves, so she does no damage with her short nails.

Her scream vibrates against my palm, a muffled sound that no one will hear in the sound-proofed arena built for warring monsters. I lock the door behind me with a free hand, my other arm wrapped tight around her shoulder and hand covering her mouth. She tries to bite me, but it will only leave bruises.

I tear her satchel from where it is slung over her shoulder, catching some of her hair and loosening the elastic, and throw it to the opposite side of the room, where she will not be able to call out her Pokémon for help. It slides across the floor and into the wall and a pen rolls out from the open flap.

I force her to the ground and her knees give way, and in seconds she splayed out on her back, hair pooled around her head, and her eyes are wide and wet. Tears have dribbled onto my glove. I let go of her mouth and she immediately begins to scream. I let her.

When she has to breathe, I lean on her chest to silence her and hiss, "No one can hear you, so be quiet."

"Please," she gasps, "please, please, please, please, Dear Arceus, please—"

"Be. Quiet," I say, tightening my grip on her arm with each word. She winces and goes silent. Her hiccupping is driving me insane. "Stop _whimpering_."

"I-I can't—"

_ "Now!"_

She snaps her mouth shut and covers it with both hands. She hiccups.

I am leaning over her, pressing on her chest, and my back begins to ache. Her hips are slightly boney as I straddle them and dig out my pocket knife, keeping one hand on her throat, tight enough to begin bruising.

"No," she whispers. "No, please, don't—"

"Don't beg," I snap, working the blade up with my thumb. "It's annoying."

She starts to cry again. I press slightly on her throat to choke out the sobs. "Shh," I say, smiling because the blade is not dull and because it leaves a line of blood as I drag it across the curve of her jaw. "Be quiet."

Her hands pry at mine, but my arm is locked at the elbow and I won't let go so easily. Finally, she stops and I feel the tension drain from her body. She lets her arms fall.

"Good," I tell her. "Very good. Will you be quiet now?"

She nods, and her tears have mixed with the blood on her and have slid onto the floor. Hopefully I won't get that on my pants when I leave.

"When I stand up," I say, "you will not move. Understood?"

"Y-Ye—"

"Don't talk. I just asked you if you'd be quiet. Are you lying to me?"

She shakes her head.

"You will not move, you will not resist, and you will not make a single sound. Are we clear?"

She nods.

I get off her and grab her by her hair. "Up."

She gets to her feet, following my fist so I don't pull her hair. I lead her to her satchel, bend down, and gather all six of her PokéBalls and stuff them in my pocket. I button it shut.

"Pick up your bag and clean up this mess," I tell her, letting go of her hair. She scrambles to comply, slinging the bag back over her shoulder.

I smile softly at her and brush the cut on her jaw with my thumb, cupping her cheek with my palm. "Oh, poor you. You tripped and fell and cut your cheek on my knife while I was cutting a loose thread on my jacket, didn't you?"

She stares at me silently for a moment before nodding vigorously.

"And I'm a concerned acquaintance who will be taking you to your home, aren't I?"

She nods again, wiping away new tears. Her hand is halfway to pulling my hand off her cheek.

"Come on, then, because I don't you like hospitals much, do you?" I wrap my arm around her shoulders, keeping the knife close in the sleeve of my jacket. She watches as I pull it out slightly so the edge is pressed to her shoulder blade.

* * *

As we exit the elevator, everyone stares. I am whispering in concern to her, stroking her face, telling her that she will be okay and that it wasn't her fault. She's just clumsy, with her words and her feet.

"Is she alright?" the woman behind the desk asks, eyes worried but smiling that a person would care so much about this girl, that he would comfort her.

"She's fine," I say, laughing awkwardly. "Just a bit clumsy."

"Miss, are you alright?" she asks the girl.

"I'm fine," the girl answers. "He's right. I...I was just clumsy."

The woman smiles. "As long as you're alright. Hopefully you won't hurt yourself again. You wouldn't want to worry your boyfriend anymore than you have, would you?"

"Oh, can we get our BP before I forget?" I ask, already reaching for my point card. "my mind's a muddle, usually, so it's wonder I remembered now."

"Both of you?"

I nod and offer the card. "Yes, please."

She smiles. "Of course. Miss, may I have your card for a moment as well?"

The girl nods shakily and roots through her bag and gives the card to the woman. It only a takes a few seconds for the system to register who we are and what we've won today before it loads the points onto our cards. The woman gives us our cards and smiles.

Her eyes dart to the computer screen before widening. "You've won three challenges today? That's extremely impressive, sir."

"Thank you." I squeeze the girl's shoulder. The knife offers slight resistance as it pushes into the back of her jacket. "Well, have a good day."

Together we walk out, and no one tries to stop me.


End file.
